


His Jacket

by Oparu



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Philinda - Freeform, Spoilers for S02E04, post-episode s02e04 Face My Enemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 10:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2464796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil makes Melinda wear his jacket back to the Bus from the hotel and the fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for season two, episode four, Face My Enemy. 
> 
> Hopefully this is part of a deluge of amazing post-ep fic. Go Philinda Agents go!

They go out through the window. One of their less dignified exits and it does feel like the old days when Phil stops, puts his hands around her waist and carefully lowers her to the pavement. Her bare feet are pretty tough, but parking lots are always a mess of oil and broken bottles. She won't feel it if she steps on anything. Adrenaline sings through her veins with her racing heartbeat and not even her electrical burns hurt.

"The car's just over here," he says, offering his hand. She half-expects him to add 'darling' to the end of it because he's still looking at her the way Charles looks at Heidi.

"She didn't have the keys, I hope."

Phil jingles his pocket and starts to hand them over but she shakes her head. Sweat steams from her skin in the weak light of the parking lot. The Florida air's hot and sticky. Her mouth tastes of copper and her hands are less than steady.

"You should drive."

He nods. He opens her door first, then shrugs out of his jacket and holds it up. "So you don't have to go back to the Bus in your slip. I don't think Hunter or Skye are ready for that."

She's sweaty and blood's probably starting to ooze from her burns. She's going to get his good jacket and all filthy. He likes this one. Melinda opens her mouth to protest, but he nods.

"It's too bad about your dress."

"It was hot," she reminds him. The silky lining of his jacket sticks to her damp skin and she's enveloped in the scent of him. Not just aftershave and a hint of cologne, but his sweat from running after the painting.

"Hopefully you're not cold now."

She shakes her hair out over the shoulders of his jacket and sighs. It's comfortable to smile with him. "No."

"Did he hurt you?"

She leans back into the seat. Now that she's still, her muscles start to tingle, promising a hundred aches tomorrow. "He tried."

"I'm sorry, May."

"You figured it out."

He knows electrical burns when he sees them, and he'll fuss when they get back to the Bus, but for the moment, he nods. "Eventually."

Leaning back, she lets her body rest. As the adrenaline leaves her, she's sore, shaky, even weak now that it's over. The painting's sitting in the backseat. Madonna and Child watching them benevolently while the alien writing taunts them both. At least they have it. They can figure something out. They have to.

"I've never seen you fight you before," he says, smiling over at her. "That was pretty cool."

"She wasn't me. Too predictable."

"Not everyone trains with Nat."

Melinda flexes her fingers and licks blood off of a knuckle. "She likes to keep her secrets."

"Wonder why that seems so familiar?"

He taps the integrated phone in the dash of the car and calls the Bus. When Skye answers, he asks her to meet them outside the plane with a pair of shoes. She sounds confused, but agrees. He asks for the med kit too and Melinda argues with him. He hushes her in front of Skye and she's not going to be able to explain to her trainee agent that Phil babies her.

She continues to insist that she's fine as he parks the rental car. Skye and Trip are waiting for both of them. Skye's holding her own slippers, which are far more colourful than anything May would have, but maybe she didn't want to go in her room.

"Sorry," Skye says. "I didn't know what to grab. At least they're not bunnies."

They're some kind of cartoon character with frizzy red hair and a bow. There are a trio of bears on the other slipper and what's on them doesn't matter, Melinda reminds herself. It's nice to put her feet in something because the cold cement of the airplane hanger hurts. Trip opens the med kit on the hood of the car and starts taking out bandages and cleanser.

"Electrical burns," Phil explains as he opens the jacket to show Trip. "Standard current, I think."

She's not even out of the car and all of them are fussing. Skye's still hovering just behind Trip. Her slip is soaked through with sweat. Her hands tremble nearly as badly as Phil's did and when she stands, her legs protest. She stumbles and Phil catches her shoulders.

"Take a minute, if you need to."

"I'm fine," she insists, because Trip and Skye are watching and she can see Mack and Fitz on the cargo ramp.

"You were tortured and then fought a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Being fine means you're allowed to be a little weak," Phil reminds her.

"Tortured?" Skye asks.

"Tear the wire out of something, a lamp, computer, phone charger: it's crude, but works," Trip explains. He slathers something over her burns and they go numb, starting from the skin and seeping through.

She can walk on her own, but Phil won't let her. He wraps his arm tightly around her waist and gives her the other to hold. It's as tight as the dancing, and intimate. When she stumbles, Skye takes her other hand.

"Who hurt you?"

"A former agent," Melinda says. She swallows. "And someone from Hydra. They had life decoy tech."

"What?" Trip asks.

"Fake Talbot," Phil answers. "And fake May."

"Fake May?"

"When she came to get me," Phil explains. "It wasn't May. Not really."

"Looked a lot like you," Skye says. Her grip on May's hand tightens a little. "So you were somewhere else? Being electrocuted?"

"Only slightly worse than the dancing," Melinda jokes. When they hit the ramp she's grateful for Phil's arms around her. She's tired and sore. She bit the inside of her lip, either fighting Hydra or the electricity and her mouth tastes of blood. She's cold now, even though she's still covered in sweat, and she huddles into Phil's jacket as they escort her to medical.

"I'll clean her up if you get the plane in the air," Phil says.

Trip hands the med kit to Skye. "Remember to check her heart rate. Make sure it's stable, not racing all over the place."

Phil nods. Melinda rolls her eyes. Skye's concern makes her eyes wide. They walk her to medical, and Phil lifts her up to the table, his hands strong on her waist. Skye brings him what he needs and her eyes keep focus on the nasty electrical burns on her shoulder.

"What's it like?"

"Being electrocuted?" Melinda pauses, trying to answer the question truthfully. "Your muscles seize, your chest freezes up. Pretty unpleasant."

"This one's a stun gun," Phil explains, drawing Skye's attention to the larger mark on Melinda's back. "See how the edges are starting to blister?"

"Ouch," Skye says.

"You should see the other me," Melinda replies, smiling.

"You really should," Phil adds. "You're definitely the superior version."

"Of course," she teases. He leans close, stroking her hair off her damp forehead. Skye pulls back, leaving them alone. Melinda rests her head on his chest, shutting her eyes. "I need you," she reminds him in a whisper. "You do this best."

There's so much regret in his eyes that it hurts to meet them. "Skye was right here. She cares about you. Trip has steady hands and medical training. You're going to have to let them--"

Melinda shakes her head. She knows them, trusts them, but they're not him. No one's him. "I'm not ready."

Phil strokes her cheek, then kisses her. His lips are so gentle against her cheek that she almost doesn't feel them. "They are. They care about you. A lot."

Skye comes back with her pyjamas and socks. Trip checks on her heart rate twice before he lets her go to bed, but she sneaks out of her bunk, holding Phil's jacket to her chest.

He's staring at the ceiling, eyes open. He half-sits, then pats the bed next to him. "You okay?"

"I had your jacket."

"That's okay," he says. He opens the sheets, making space for her at his side. "You can probably keep it."

She hugs it tight to her chest and stares at the space next to him in the bed. She aches to be next to him, to fall asleep wrapped up in him. She leaves the jacket on the hook next to the bed and climbs in before she can change her mind. His arms wrap around her and she snuggles into his chest. He's careful with her bandages and she holds his hands flat against her stomach, keeping them still while she can.

"Not yet."

He sighs. "Melinda."

"Not yet."


End file.
